Your Room or Mine?
by SlinkyT
Summary: It's fairly easy for roommates to keep private things private, until it's not.


AN: So, I saw this idea on tumblr and decided to give it a shot. I'm not a detailed writer when it comes to sex and whatnot, but I attempted to get the concept across and hope that you guys enjoy. It's not something I worked too hard on, just a fun one-shot while I was trying to get together the next chapters of my other ones.:) As always, feel free to review and give me any sort of feedback, and check out my Cherry themed tumblr! (cherrforthesoul)

* * *

The first time it happened, neither of them were expecting it.

Rachel and Mike had been roommates for months, through the beginning of the fall semester year past Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's and had managed to fall into a series of routines in their college life. He'd left a flyer on their college call board and she'd been one of the few to respond. It must have been the honesty on the flyer about how he was messy, but could cook that turned other people away. Sometimes their adjusted routine involved the occasional text to drop in late, should somebody be coming over, or the text to avoid the apartment altogether, which wasn't always a bad thing. Today, though, there was not a text. There was no warning, there was no preparation for what happened when Mike walked through that apartment door.

It was midterms time, they were both stressed about passing or failing, passing or failing, and neither of them had a moment for resting, not to mention dating. That had fallen to the wayside weeks ago when research essays began. So, now it was about their delicate ballet around each other in the apartment. There were certain things they did in order to make school and time in the apartment easier. Like dinner being fixed for both and brought to a diligent worker at the mutual desk space. One heading to bed so the other could have undistracted study time, and it was hard because even though they were simply roommates, they were friends too. And it was always easy to get lost in conversation with a friend.

Even with the majority of their time spent inside the apartment, they still had managed to avoid awkward just out of the shower conversations, or getting into the shower conversations, or padding to the kitchen in the middle of the night when the "coast was clear" text got sent and bumping into to each other conversations, or the scampering to retrieve a condom from the bathroom (which they both believed was a good idea) conversations. So, for the most part tension had a hard time collecting between them. Today. Today there was something different though.

Mike pulled at the apartment door, his backpack that he wore only because he biked was tossed on the ground and immediately he noticed a shift. Rachel wasn't sitting on the couch watching the shows she usually did at this time, the about hour window she had that she usually spent watching whatever she'd recorded from the night before. He was wary about the situation and cautiously walked around the apartment, looking for her, but not calling out. For one, he thought it would be stupid because their apartment was so tiny, and two, by the time he even needed to get worried, the only place left was her bedroom.

He shrugged, assuming she was in there and then retreated to the kitchen, putting a few things on the counter for dinner, knowing it was his turn to come up with something.

A breath later, Rachel came scurrying out of her bedroom, but he hadn't expected to see what he did. Clad only in undergarments Rachel hurried through the maze of furniture to the bathroom and his eyes widened. He'd never seen her skin so clearly, or even body and the fact that she completely disregarded his existence was almost odd.

Moments later, as Mike observed, she came walking out at a smoother pace, a second bra in hand and as she walked she unclipped the one already on, pulling it off as she made her way back to her room and Mike couldn't tear his eyes away from her unrestricted frame, but words came out in shock that even he hadn't expected.

"Ohmygod, Rachel, what are you doing?" He asked hurriedly and his hands flew up to cover his eyes and he heard her intake of breath of response and her nervous breathing.

"What are you doing?" She accused hurriedly, voice shaking with…fear? No, that wasn't right. "I-I wasn't expecting you back until later," she said at the same pace and he shook his head.

"Why? I'm almost always home at this time!" He exclaimed and though he knew that she needed to put clothes on, he hadn't heard the volume of her voice change as she left the room, if she had, and he peeked out from under his hand, only to see her standing, arms crossed and trying to fold her body in on itself.

"Stop it! Don't look!" She squealed and then felt a heat rising in her cheeks, and she grabbed a pillow off the couch, pulling it to cover her body partially and then stood a little straighter. "You're almost always home at this time. I was thinking you weren't going to be." She mumbled, almost ashamed to have done those actions with him watching.

"Well, I am," he said flatly and she laughed bitterly the slightest bit.

"Yeah, well, I see that now. Um, I-Michael, what did you see?" She asked seriously as if her entire world would shift should he have seen more than anything else. He rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see that and replied.

"What do you think I saw?" He asked almost in annoyance that she'd thought somehow he'd manage to divert his eyes when she walked by. Did she always have such nice curves? He heard grumbling and her feet stomping off and he opened his eyes just to catch the last swish of her hair and the pink lacy material stretched against her back and over her backside before she slammed her door. He groaned out of frustration and leaned forward on to the closest counter and hoped to God that she wasn't mad for too long. They had a great set up here and he didn't want something like this to jeopardize that. He heard her door open again and then immediately stood upright, turning his back to the direction that she was in. He started opening boxes of ingredients, pouring ingredients into a mixing bowl and he heard bare feet behind him on the tile. Before he could say anything, small hands were on his waist, causing him to drop the box of noodles he was currently using and spilling the noodles on the counter.

He swallowed thickly and he attempted to turn around but Rachel's hands grabbed his belt loops, keeping him forward and he took a breath.

"I apologize for how I reacted," she said softly, voice in someway different and he started gathering the noodles he dropped as if she wasn't even there. "I should have been more aware of my surroundings. And I should have thought what seeing something like that would do to you…to us." She commented, her voice airy and light and her hands dropped, taking their time as they ran down the front of his thighs and he stiffened under her touch.

"Hey, calm, it's just me," just muttered, fingers pressing into the tops of his legs to calm him and he couldn't help but sigh when he felt her body push forward against his own and instead of the rough friction of material against material, he felt skin. Pure skin and his breath hitched. Wait. Why didn't she have clothes on? This Rachel here. Roommate Rachel. Saturday sitcom marathon Rachel. Wednesday pizza Rachel.

Mike couldn't deny that she was attractive. And he also couldn't say he didn't feel a twinge of jealousy when she would text him on those days that she didn't want him to come home just yet. But nothing like this had ever crossed his mind. Her hands ran back up and around, pushing under his shirt on his back, feeling muscles up and up until she was pushing his shirt of his head and he was complying. Her hands took their time moving down his back and he stayed perfectly still, trying to convince himself this wasn't a dream and then her hands dipped into the back pockets of his jeans and used that as leverage to raise on to her toes. She pushed her chest purposely against his back, lips meeting at his shoulder before she whispered to him.

"When that door closes again," she said, her tone thick and sexy and while she spoke. He turned the stove off, knowing there would be no need for that anytime soon. "You have two choices. You follow me, let me show you how long I've been waiting for this," she said, enunciating perfectly as if she were standing on stage. "And I won't move out. Or, you stay here, make dinner, and I'll pack my things. Your choice." She said, her nails in his back pockets raking lightly as she pulled them out and then she was gone as fast as she got there.

There wasn't a hesitation in his mind at which choice he was going to take. And it wasn't because of the ultimatum, but it caused him to smirk at how she was willing to make that drastic of a change should she not get what she wanted. As he walked to her room, not his own, it seemed like the pieces came together in his head. The days when she'd been broken up with and all she wanted to do was lay by him on the couch. How touchy she seemed when they both ended up working in the kitchen to prepare food. How she found excuses to hold his hand. It had always been right there, he just hadn't seen it.

He pulled open her door and closed it behind him, his only goal to be to fulfill his part of the ultimatum, which was really just let it happen, and he was more than happy to. It wasn't fast, it wasn't slow. It wasn't hurried or anxious, or entirely awkward, though there were some condomy problems in the middle that got fixed in a hurry, and some snags of clothing. Nothing too unexpected.

Well, actually what was unexpected was when it happened again.

For days they continued their delicate balance of before, but something was off, of course. It was bound to be. He wasn't expecting perfection. But he also wasn't expecting her to be so open about it the second time it was proposed.

He had slumped into the apartment, tired and aching from a long day of studying and working in the college library. His back ached and he'd dropped his bag at the door, not caring and then fell on the couch face down. She'd been standing in the bathroom and heard him enter. She hesitantly approached, not wanting to catch him off guard, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He hummed softly, the contact being enough to let him know she was there, but not too much that things were uncomfortable.

And then she decided to do all that she could and she climbed on the couch beside him for a moment before carefully putting a leg on other side of his back, not resting her full weight on him, because she had a feeling what he didn't needed was something compromising his attempts at comfort. Her hands laid on his back for a moment, before she carefully started massaging and he let out a small noise against the cushion.

Her hands kneaded harder against the knots that had developed throughout the day and it wasn't until she'd hit a spot at his lower back did he let out a moan. She hesitated and then leaned down, her lips close to his hear and he could feel her breath. He held his own and waited.

"I can make you feel better," she murmured softly, a kiss placed on that sensitive skin behind his ear and he sighed.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm tired. Exhausted. And that sounds like a line, but it's not. And if we…if I…" He paused and then just decided to start somewhere else. "I would just be more tired," he supplied and she nodded her head as her hands snuck under his shirt at his waist.

"Maybe," she replied. "But then it would at least be the good kind of tired," he laughed softly and turned his head just enough to look at her.

"You can't guarantee that." He challenged and she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe not, but I can very well try my absolute hardest," she debated and he smirked widely, already his eyes feeling a little more open. He turned under her, glad that she adjusted to his movements and all too soon she was straddling his lap on their couch and she smiled, leaning closer and pressing her hips to meet his.

"You just have to promise to try your hardest, too," she said with a grin and pressed a kiss to the pale skin of his throat and made her way up to his ear as he tried to formulate words.

"My absolute hardest," he replied with a smirk and from there words were hardly needed. It was actually probably the least amount of talking they ever done together. They didn't even bother to get up from the couch, as she stripped down, him following soon thereafter . His hands found curves right at her waist and at some point ended up holding her thighs, where he could feel the muscles she was using to move in a continuous rhythm, that eventually turned desperate and erratic, tightening and loosening with each rock of her hips. Her hands found his chest, nails scratching along the taut muscles and it all seemed to happen in a flash, and in slow motion at the same time. When fulfilling his promise once more, her head tilted back, one hand falling to his thigh to catch herself and the other at the lower part of his stomach. In that moment she hadn't ever felt so full, not just as she was slamming down on top of him once more, but it was the idea that she'd needed this for so long. They had all the other parts and now their relationship in itself seemed…full.

Similar stories could be told for places all over the apartment including just inside the front door, her bed, on a counter in the kitchen, his bed, the edge of her bed, on the dining room table (which felt particularly wrong when people came over and sat there, eating right where he'd had Rachel sprawled out and whining for more), his bed, and her bed a few more times than his because she said it smelled better.

It wasn't until she was pulling him to the bathroom, headed to the shower with him in tow, did he stop to question what was going on here. What were they even doing? His wrist twisted out of her grasp, to which she turned in shock and immediately moved to him, the kiss she quickly placed on his lips expected and he wondered why that was.

"What is it, Michael?" She asked softly, trying to reach for his hand once more, but he cleverly grabbed her own wrists and looked straight at her.

"What are we doing?" He asked seriously and she shook her head laughing.

"We are heading to the shower, silly," She stated as if that were the most obvious thing in the world and pushed closer to him, mouth meeting his in a moment before he was pulling away, her being left with a shattered expression. His eyes dropped and so did his hands from her wrists.

"No, I mean, what-what is this thing that we're doing?" He asked hesitantly and he saw her recognition at his inquiry. She shrugged, hands carefully laying on his chest, fingers that had learned all the parts of him and could probably trace them from memory toying with the collar of his shirt.

"We're having fun," she offered weakly and somehow knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"But…what happens when we stop having fun?" He asked. Because of this, things around the apartment had changed. He hadn't dated. Neither had she. It wasn't said they were in a relationship. It just was that, they didn't feel the need to go looking for somebody, when they had a friend, who also happened to provide sex, at home. He was just scared of the day that she said something about feelings, or when she brought home another guy and he realized then, when it was too late, that he'd wanted her all along. He was scared that when this stopped, friends wouldn't been an option. There would be too much between them to go back to the way things were and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

"Who said we had to stop?" She challenged him with an arched eyebrow and her hands pushed around to his neck, pulling him down closer to her, and even though he complied, she didn't meet their lips. "I thought it was the girl that was supposed to worry about feelings and junk," she said with a soft smile and he laughed quietly.

"Well, have you worried about feelings and junk?" He asked, teasing her for her phrasing and she dropped silent, her lips pressing into a tight line. She nodded silently and he laughed.

"Well, what would you like to do about this feelings and junk?" He stated again and she rolled her eyes before shrugging, her chewing on her bottom lip nervously as he was still very, very close to kissing her right on those lips.

"Well, part of my feelings want to go take a shower right now," she said with a smirk and he nodded in agreement, that seeming like a suitable option. "But all that other junk wants to cuddle you," she murmured and then finally closed the gap between their lips. "And kiss you," she said quietly, noses now brushing lightly and lips hovering like they could go back in for another kiss at any moment. "And date you," she stated like that ideas was crazy and his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"I don't see why that's not an option," he stated with ease and she smiled widely, leaning in to crash her lips against his, everything going up in a spark and he was dazed when she pulled away quickly and dragged him to the bathroom.

"Come on, you have a date to get ready for," she stated, closing the door behind the both of them.


End file.
